


peanut

by zhuzhubi



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Awkward Spencer Reid, Dad!Spencer Reid, F/M, Fluff, Kid Fic, Pregnancy, Spencer Reid as a dad, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:41:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27789178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zhuzhubi/pseuds/zhuzhubi
Summary: reader is pregnant and spencer worries(or, another fic where reader goes into labor while spencer’s away on a case)
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 130





	peanut

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally supposed to be a request fill, but i realize about a third of the way through that i wasn’t filling the main premise of the request. so, i decided that i would finish this fic and actually write the request at a later date instead of trying to fix this up to work for the request - so theres a somewhat similar fic coming in the future, hope thats okay with you guys lol
> 
> also im on tumblr @zhuzhubii and i like friends :)

Spencer’s had a bad feeling all day. 

Or maybe it isn’t a bad feeling, per se, just an unsettling one - like the feeling you get when you know that you’re forgetting something, but can’t quite figure out what it is. And it really wouldn’t seem like such a big deal if it were anyone else, but he’s _Spencer Reid_ \- he has perfect recall, and yeah sometimes things still slip his mind, but he’s _never_ not been able to figure out what that thing was before. 

And so, in the SUV on the way to the suspected unsub’s house, Spencer decides that it must be some kind of premonition - sometimes his subconscious picks up little details that he can’t consciously recognize, and he’s learned that he really ought to listen to his gut most often. Right now Spencer’s subconscious is trying to tell him something and even though he can’t quite pinpoint what it is, past experience tells him that he needs to be careful - gut feelings of any kind during a case have only ended badly for him, so forgive him for being a little (justifiably) nervous.

But then the takedown goes completely fine - there’s a little bit of a scuffle, but that’s all. Spencer decides that maybe we’re missing something, maybe this is one of those cases where there’s a secret partner or some kind of elaborate plot to frame someone, but that ends up not being true either - the guy’s DNA matches what they found at the fourth crime scene and they get a full, _gruesomely_ detailed confession to boot. And that’s that, it’s one of the cleanest cases Spencer has ever worked and yet his gut still won’t _shut up_ about something being wrong.

He finds himself fiddling with his phone as the team is wrapping everything up - his mind keeps jumping to worst case scenarios, _what if something’s wrong with (y/n) or the baby, what if the feeling is actually about_ her _, not me? Oh god ohgod -_

The next thing he knows, Spencer is ducking into an empty office and dialing his wife’s number with trembling hands. He’s bringing the phone up to his ear and muttering _come on comeoncomeon_ as it rings and rings and rings -

_“Spencer?”_ her voice comes through the tinny speakers, and he practically melts with relief, _“Is…something wrong?”_

“No, no - nothing’s wrong,” he replies, his voice a little less steady than he expected it to be, “We’re just wrapping up the case actually, so I should be home soon…”

_“Oh, I’m glad - Peanut misses you! ”_

“Awe,” Spencer can’t help but coo, “Tell her I miss her too”

_“Did you hear that, Peanut?”_ Spencer hears her say, her voice a little muffled as she talks to her belly, _“Daddy misses you. Oh!”_

“What? What was that, what happened!?” he frets, his heart damn-near stopping in his chest at her sudden exclamation.

_“Nothing, you worry-wart,”_ (y/n) chides affectionately, _“Peanut’s been sleeping all day so it just surprised me when she kicked, that’s all”_

“She’s been sleeping _all day?_ Are you sure she’s alright? Reduced fetal movement can be a sign of distress, you know, I think maybe you should call Dr. Pham just to make sure everything’s okay -”

_“Spencer, take a deep breath,”_ Spencer does without even thinking about it, and he immediately feels a little bit better, _“Good. Now relax - Peanut is fine. I promise I’ll give Dr. Pham a call if I think anything is wrong, okay?”_

“Okay,” Spencer sighs, “Okay. I’m sorry, I know how I can be sometimes. It’s just that I’ve had this…this _feeling_ all day, a-and I just worry when I’m not there with the two of you, you know?”

“I know,” she replies, “I worry when you’re away too. But think about it this way - this is your last case traveling before she’s born, and after that you’ll be home for _six whole weeks_ before you go back to work.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but then there’s someone knocking on the door and Morgan’s muffled voice echoes through the thin wood, “Reid? Are you in there?”

“Yeah, just a minute!” he calls back. 

Spencer waits to hear her footsteps back away from the door before turning back to his phone and mumbling, “That was JJ, so I…”

_“You have to go?”_ (y/n) continues after his words trail off, _“That’s okay - you go wrap up the case so you can get home, alright?”_

“Yeah, yeah um…,” Spencer trails off a second time, knowing that he needs to hang up the phone but somehow unable to make himself day goodbye.

_“Spencer. Stop worrying, we’re fine,”_ she says, and then when he still doesn’t reply, _“Penelope should be wrapping up right about now too, right? Would it make you feel better if I called her over?”_

“Yes!” he exclaims, then blushes at his own response and starts to backtrack, “Oh um, yes I mean. That would make me feel better. N-not that I’m trying to say you can’t take care of yourself because I don’t think that at all, but what if there really is something wrong and you can’t get to the phone, o-or what if you lose consciousness? Oh god, what if -”  
  


_“Honey - Spencer, Spencer stop! I promise we’re fine, I just texted Penelope and she said she’s coming over, there’s nothing to worry about. Now hang up the phone and go finish up the case so you can get home, alright?”_

“Alright. Okay, um - I-I love you, bye!” and then Spencer hangs up the phone before he has the chance to second guess himself, forcing himself to walk back out of the empty office and awkwardly smile in response to his teammate’s questioning glances.

…

As much as Spencer’s been trying to ignore it, the feeling still persists as he steps onto the plane and settles himself in one of the seats, pulling a book out of his messenger bag and trying to make himself focus on the words. He manages to get through one hundred pages in forty-five minutes - a quite frankly _abysmal_ amount considering his usual reading speed. 

It’s only after he reads the same page ten times without processing what it’s saying that he finally gives up, closing the book with a sigh and chewing his bottom lip as his thoughts drift to his wife. He finds himself pulling his phone out of his pocket and turning it over and over in his hands, debating whether or not he should just give in and call despite the fact that he’s probably worrying for no reason. He scowls down at it as he tries to decide, flicking it open and closed and open and closed and open -

It lights up all of the sudden, buzzing as his ringtone echoes throughout the cabin. The screen says ‘GARCIA’ in all capital letters - it takes Spencer a moment to process what’s going on, but as soon as he does he’s answering the call as quickly as he possibly can, he’s pushing himself to his feet and walking towards the slightly-less-public area near the drinks station.

“Is (y/n) okay?” he fires out, wasting no time with greetings.

_“Y-yeah, she’s fine,”_ Garcia stutters, her voice a little weak and nervous and not-at-all reassuring.

“Garcia,” he barks, completely unconvinced, “What’s wrong?”

_“W-well, um, you see…nothing is wrong, really, I wouldn’t say that what’s happening is anything out of the ordinary -”_

“Garcia!” Spencer interrupts, “What’s going on? Where’s (y/n)!?”

_“Oh, she’s in the shower - Lady Reid just wanted to wash up before we get ready to go,”_ Garcia replies as if it was obvious, completely oblivious to the increasing panic of the man on the other side of the line.

Spencer lets out a sigh of frustration, trying to keep his cool as he grows more and more panicked by the second, “What!? Where are you guys going, it’s almost 11pm back in DC!”

_“She, um, s-she wanted to take a shower before we left for the hospital.”_

“The _hospital!?_ Why are you taking her to the hospital - Is she okay? Is the baby okay?”

_“Oh!”_ Garcia exclaims, as if she’s just now realizing how much distress her vagueness is causing, _“Oh no - she’s fine! It’s jut that her water broke a little while ago”_

And then Spencer’s brain short-circuits - his face goes completely white and he nearly collapses where he stands, wavering on his feet and stuttering out some kind of unintelligible noise as Garcia chatters on the other side of the line. Someone’s wrapping a hand around his arm and guiding him back to his seat as someone else pulls the phone from his hand - he’s distantly aware of someone saying _What happened? T-the baby’s coming!? Now!?_ but all he can focus on is _her water broke her water broke_ echoing in his ears.

His mind starts running through statistics, trying to calculate the probability of him making it home in time. But there are just too many unknown variables - _how long has she been in labor?_ he thinks, _she didn’t sound like she was in labor when I called her a few hours ago, but then again what does someone sound like when they’re in labor anyway? And many mothers, especially first time mothers, miss the signs of early labor - oh god we’re still at least three hours out, what if I don’t make it in time?_

Someone takes his hands in theirs and says, “Spencer, breathe,” as they rub circles into his palms. He does, sucking in shaky breaths and clenching his eyes shut until his racing thoughts calm down a little. When he finally blinks them open again, he sees JJ in the seat across from him - she gives his hands a squeeze and says, “(y/n)’s gonna give you a call after she gets checked in, alright?”

And then Spencer’s thinking a million things again, his thoughts are jumping from _oh my god I’m gonna be a dad_ to _what if I’m not there when she’s born?_ to _is (y/n) okay? What if don’t let Garcia go in with her and she’s all alone?_

He just starts shaking his head, half-formed sentences squeaking out as JJ tries to calm him down. “(y/n) - what if…?” he stutters, “what if I-I…she - baby!”

JJ just chuckles and thumbs over the back of his hands. “Yep, baby!” she says with a grin.

“Baby…,” Spencer mutters to himself, imagining the little thumps of movement he’s grown used to feeling against his palm, the blurry black and white pictures he’s seen of his daughter. And of course he’d known that all of those things were leading up to an actual squirming infant being birthed into the world, but it all seems so much more real all of the sudden - he pictures holding his wife’s hand as the baby crowns, coaching her through breathing exercises and she pushes through the pain -

“Oh god!” Spencer exclaims, “We’re still hours away, what if we don’t make it back in time? What if there’s no one there to talk her through the Lamaze exercises, o-or hold her hand while she’s -”

“Spence,” she interrupts, “Take it from someone who’s had a baby before - your little girl won’t be making an appearance for a while yet. And even if that’s not the case, Garcia is there with her, okay?”

He takes a deep breath, and then another. “Okay,” he mutters to himself, “(y/n)’s fine. Peanut’s fine. I’m gonna make it there in time, but even if I don’t Garcia will be there with her…”

…

Spencer practically runs off of the plane as soon as it lands, speed-walking down the tarmac and ignoring the calls of, “Spencer. Spencer!” from behind him. He has exactly one thing on his mind and it involves getting himself to the hospital as soon as possible (and definitely paying less mind to traffic law than he usually does)

But then there’s someone wrapping a hand around his arm and pulling him to a stop, ignoring his cries of frustration as they say, “Spence, breathe for a moment. I’m gonna drive you to the hospital, but first you need to calm down.”

“Calm down!” he exclaims, turning to face the person - it’s JJ again, he realizes - as he scowls, “I’m perfectly calm, now let go of me so I can go meet my wife at the hospital!”

JJ just raises an eyebrow at him, lifting an arm up to reveal what Spencer realizes is his go-bag - he blinks at it in confusion, realizing he must’ve forgotten it in his haste to get going. “Yeah,” she says, “Spence, I’m not letting you drive like this - it’s dark out and you’re a little frazzled to say the least, and I know you don’t like driving anyway. I promise I’ll get you there as fast as I can, okay?”

He mulls it over for half a second before realizing that he’s wasting time arguing - JJ’s clearly not going to back down, and he’ll get to (y/n) sooner if he just gives in. And maybe she’s right anyway, however much he doesn’t want to admit it - but then again, his first child is about to be born! He’s allowed to be a little freaked out, thankyouverymuch. 

And so Spencer nods his head, mumbling, “Yeah, yeah okay,” and reaching out to take his go-bag from her hands. It takes almost ten minutes to get to her car and Spencer feels his anxiety building the whole way - he practically runs toward JJ’s car as soon as he sees it, waiting by the passenger’s side door like an impatient child for her to catch up.

He’s practically vibrating by the time they make it to the hospital - JJ pulls up in the front and he jumps out without a second thought, hurrying through the sliding doors as quickly as he can. There’s someone in line before him and Spencer’s not usually an impatient person, but he finds himself anxiously tapping his feet as he waits. Once they’re finally done, Spencer steps up to the window with unsteady legs and tries to relay the situation.

“My, um - I-I,” he sputters, worrying at his lip with frustration as the words refuse to come out, “(y/n), um - (y/n) Reid?”

“And…who are you?” the nurse inquires, looking over him to try and assess what’s going on.

“I-I,” he starts, taking a deep breath and trying to steady himself, “my, um, m-my - ugh!”

“Do you think it’d be easier for you to write it down?” she asks, pushing a paper and pen in his direction as she tilts her head in concern.

Spencer lets out a sigh of relief because _yes, ohmygosh that’ll be so much easier_ and nods, humming, “Uh-huh,” and he takes the pen and starts to write -

_My name is Spencer Reid. My wife (y/n) is having a baby, could you tell me what room she’s in?_

\- He starts digging through his pockets for his ID as the nurse looks it over. She lets out a little, “Ohhh,” with a knowing smile as she reads, then turns and grabs a form and slides it over the counter. “Could you just sign this for me?” she says, humming to herself as he hands his ID over and glances over the form, quickly signing it before sliding it back.

She takes the form and types on her computer for a second before handing his ID back along with a visitor’s badge, then points to the left and says, “She’s in room 126 right down the hall, just go straight and it’s on the right. Congratulations on the baby, by the way!”

He barely hears her, his focus narrowing on the hall as he hurries toward his laboring wife. When he finally - _finally!_ \- makes it to her room, he’s not sure what to do with himself at first. He pauses with his hand wrapped around the handle, his mind suddenly blank now that he’s actually arrived.

“Oh, are you (y/n)’s husband?” someone says and Spencer turns to face the voice, “I’m Mindy, one of her nurses - she’s gonna be so excited that you’re here!”

And then she opens the door and walks through like it’s no big deal, saying, “(y/n), look who’s here!”

(y/n) looks up in confusion, her expression melting into a smile as soon as she sees him - all of the sudden Spencer’s not sure what he was worrying about. His wife is right in front of him, bouncing on a birthing ball and exclaiming, “Spencer, you made it!”

He takes a moment to look over her, to appreciate how perfect she looks while she’s carrying their child, how amazing she is to have grown a whole new person. But then she winces and furrows her brow, grunting as she rubs her back and breathes through what must be a contraction. 

Spencer’s by her side in an instant, mumbling encouragement and pressing on her pressure points just like all the pregnancy books said to do. It’s over soon enough, and then (y/n)’s letting out a little sigh of relief and whispering, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

And Spencer cups her face with his hands, thumbing over her cheeks as he whispers back, “I am too, I am too.”

…

Hours later, Spencer looks down at his wife as she cradles their screaming, goop-covered newborn daughter in her arms, crying tears of joy and half-delirious as she mumbles, “Our daughter, Spencer - oh my god, our daughter!”

It is, without a doubt, the best moment of his life.


End file.
